


JackRabbit Week 2014

by WritLarge



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Chapters Are Unrelated, Father's Day, Fluff, Gen, Jackrabbit Week, M/M, Tags Are Hard, The Easter Bunny Dies But Aster Doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-04 23:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am apparently addicted to prompts. My bookmarks/favourites/whatever are already filled with way too many ooh-I-want-to-write-that! entries. Now, I don’t spend much time on tumblr, because I am old and uncool, but someone posted a link to this JackRabbit week that’s going on. JackRabbit which is rapidly becoming my OTP... <em>Dammit</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chocolate Firsts

The first time he discovered Bunny’s confectionery kitchen was entirely unintentional. Jack hadn’t even realized that it existed. It was the smell that had reeled him in. The Workshop was all fruitcake and cookies and peppermint candy. This, this was CHOCOLATE, all caps required. 

He had been sleeping off some of the summer heat in the Warren when he’d been woken by the scent on the air. Wandering down several tunnels, the smell intensified and Jack heard someone… humming? It must have been Bunny.

Sure enough, when he reached the far end of the branch it opened into a much larger room where Bunny was singing in a low murmuring voice. Jack couldn’t catch any of the words, but the large rabbit was tapping his foot in time and very methodically stirring a large pot of chocolate. He didn’t pause in his work, though his ears twitched ever so slightly at Jack’s arrival.

“Comin’ in, Snowflake?” Bunny turned and grinned then. “It’s not too hot, just cooling it down now anyway.”

“You have been holding out on me, Kangaroo.” The old insult had quickly become a favorite tease, their friendly antagonism a general default these days. Jack smiled as his eyes explored the room. “This is a lot of chocolate for August.”

“Been experimenting, Ice Block.” Bunny’s muscles strained slightly as he lifted the chocolate off the heat. “If ya wanna make yourself useful, slide those trays over.”

“Sure thing, Cottontail.” He shot an amused glare at Jack and they worked together for the next few minutes to pour the thick rich mixture. Jack completely-not-on-purpose got his fingers covered in dripping chocolate.

“Oops.” 

“Oi! Hands out of the chockie.” Jack laughed at Bunny’s mock outrage and licked the chocolate off his fingers. It was a thousand times more delicious than any stolen candy bar he’d ever tried. He had almost cleaned off one set of fingers when he realized that Bunny had frozen in place.

Bunny’s vivid green eyes were trained on him in an expression Jack couldn’t quite decipher.

“Want some?” Jack waggled his candy-coated hand while he sucked the remaining chocolate off his other thumb. Bunny made a strangled sound and shook his head.

“Go wash up, ya galah.” 

“Aw, c’mon. Live a little. Don’t you want to check the taste?” Back turned, Bunny’s head shook. Grump.

“Jack-” Whatever reason Bunny had been about to give, Jack interrupted.

“Just one?” Jack pleaded. “Live a little.”

Their eyes met, both of them refusing to give. Bunny was stoically rigid for a moment and then his face slowly transformed, going from mildly exasperated to downright mischievous. A little grin curved his lips and he leapt back over to Jack.

“Ya know what, Frostbite? I will try some.” A giant red flag was waving in the back of Jack’s thoughts. 

“R-really?” He asked warily.

“Yeah. Let’s go.” Jack barely kept up with Bunny when he insisted on going outside. Having reached the open air of the Warren, free from the winding tunnels of the burrow, the Guardian of Spring produced a large chocolate with a flourish. It was roughly shaped. A sample from a test batch maybe?

“All right then, Jackie?” Jack blinked in surprise and then nodded. Seemed like a big deal for a bit of chocolate. And then-

“That’s- Y-you’ve got…” Jack leaped back up onto a rocky ledge. “I’ve never seen chocolate do _that_ before!”

The hulking rabbit warrior laughed at him. Jack hadn’t thought it possible for Bunny to be any more buff than he already was, but clearly having additional arms multiplied things exponentially.

“Been workin’ on it. I’ve gotten too used to the usual chocolate. Didn’t trigger me the same way anymore. Thought I’d give it another go since the battle with Pitch when I’d had to do without.” Bunny flexed his arms, muscles rippling beneath his fur. “How’s this for a first try?”

“I dunno.” Shaking off his shock, Jack launched himself into the air. “Can you still race like that, OctoBun?”

Bunny responded with an amused growl and they were off, laughing and leaping through the Warren, neither particularly caring which of them came in first so long as they finished together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I won't actually be posting as per the listed schedule, but here's the one for this:
> 
> Friday 13 - FIRSTS/BEGINNINGS  
> first meetings, first date, first fight, beginning of the rest of their lives…
> 
> http://jackrabbitweek.tumblr.com/post/87595999928/jackrabbit-week-june-13-22-edit-x-welcome-to


	2. Flushed

“He’s sick.” Aster had brought Jack to the Workshop. There was a cold, windowless bedroom there for Jack and he was pretty sure it was necessary. Snowflake was flushed, the colour on his cheeks glaringly out of place. He had shifted from his usually pale complexion and was now practically pink. He also wouldn’t wake up.

“Hmm,” North stood by the bedside in his great red and black coat. Several yetis were in and out of the room, grumbling and arguing. Sandy had already been sent for. “Is odd, yes? We will determine the problem.”

Bunny hovered anxiously. In the decades that they’d known one another, Jack had never fallen ill. In fact, Bunny was pretty sure Jack’s tolerance for warmth had improved since he’d moved into the Warren, a good thing now that global temperatures had become more erratic due to climate change. 

The Arctic was still as frigid as always though. Aster had borrowed a jacket from North to deal with the chill of the room. As bloody cold as it was, he wasn’t leaving until he knew what was wrong with Jack. He could only hope they’d sort it out soon. Easter was less than three weeks off.

Suddenly the yetis began to burble alarmingly. Bustling around they blocked his view.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” The yetis lifted Jack up and began to move him quickly out of the room. “Where are ya goin’?!”

Aster couldn’t see much, but he did catch a glimpse of Jack’s face as they passed. It was pale pink and fringed by dark locks, brown not white. He could actually see the colour spreading down Jack’s hair. 

What the hell?

It wasn’t until they had Jack ensconced in another room, bundled shivering under several heavy blankets, that Aster truly began to worry. Jack had told the story of how he’d become Jack Frost and the memories he’d recovered from his teeth. He’d been human once, brown haired and brown eyed, and it looked like he was returning to that - a mortal human.

But how?

It was Sandy who realized first. He arrived silently, gliding in to meet them. The question mark over his head was directed at North, but it was Aster who barked and pointed.

“What’s wrong with Jack?”

Sandy peered curiously at Jack for a moment and them looked back at North and Bunny. Anger and annoyance surged up in Aster’s chest at the Sandman’s placid expression. The Guardian of Dreams flashed a few symbols and settled on the image of a book with turning pages.

“A book?” North questioned. The book shifted to show a creeping pattern of frost on the cover.

“Crikey, the book! _First Frost_.” They’d all read it. Jamie’s daughter had written the children’s novel based on her own imaging of Jack Frost and it had become an international bestseller. There had even been a film, much to Jack’s delight. While his story had shifted, the essence of his personality was there and the depiction of his appearance was spot on. Jack Frost’s believer base had blossomed overnight, spreading rapidly across the world. Aster had even gotten a boost out of it, the Easter Bunny having been written in as Frostbite’s grumpy and protective best friend. Jack had encouraged and reveled in the attention and now the story, or rather the belief in the story, was overwhelming Jack himself.

“You’re not surprised, are ya?” Sandy shrugged. Aster knew it should have occurred to him as well. Tooth had gone through a physical transition because of shifting belief some time ago. It was reasonable that the same could happen to any of the rest of them. He’d just been too damned worried to think straight. 

In the novel, Jack Frost had a dual nature. Instead of being a strictly winter spirit, Jack took his winter form when the first frost fell on the town of his birth. He shifted into his original human appearance, albeit still an immortal spirit, on the first day of spring in the northern hemisphere. Almost all belief in Jack Frost was influenced now by this version of him, unlike the varying versions of Father Christmas that never seemed to impact North. 

Sandy, North and Aster looked fondly on their sleeping friend, peaceful and warm. They hadn’t needed to speak it aloud to all come to the same conclusion. 

“Well, I suppose this will make summer easier for him, yes?” Aster groaned. Leave it to North to be so laid back about the whole thing.

“He’s not going to be thrilled about losing his powers for half the year, mate.” 

“Ha! Book only says no more ice powers. I can help with that.” North boasted. Maybe he could. North knew a hell of a lot more about magic than Bunny, that’s to be sure. 

As long as Jack was all right with it… Well, Aster could see the advantages. If the shifting became a regular thing, they’d have long summers together without Jack’s seasonal downtime, free to explore wherever they wished. He also had a much better chance of convincing Frostbite to sleep with him in the nest now too. 

But first things first, Jack would need time to get used to the change. There would be some panic over the powers. Angst over looking like his human self too, no doubt. Jack would probably spend this summer going between North for advice and Aster for comfort. Comfort he could do… and maybe he’d get an opportunity to have that pretty pink skin of Jack’s flushed for an entirely different reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little different than the prompt, but this is where it took me.
> 
> Saturday 14 -FLUSH  
> reddened cheeks and and rosy lips, the first new days of spring and the looming heat of summer…
> 
> http://jackrabbitweek.tumblr.com/post/87595999928/jackrabbit-week-june-13-22-edit-x-welcome-to


	3. Fantasy - Knight and Squire

Jackson had become Sir Bunnymund’s squire through a series of unfortunate circumstances, which included a pig, a broken chamber pot, a spooked horse and a lot of running. What it really boiled down to was that Jackson was the newest and least popular squire and Sir Bunnymund was known for being a particularly difficult knight. They were neither of them happy with the arrangement, though they somehow agreed to endure it for the time being.

This state of affairs continued for some time. Jackson reigned in his more mischievous tendencies and Sir Bunnymund was fiercely calm. Jack did not wheedle for extra coin or favours. Sir Bunnymund did not require Jackson to fulfill any duties of companionship that other knights often requested from their squires. Jack was well fed and Sir Bunnymund’s armour well kept.

After several weeks with only a few minor disagreements, Jackson let himself unleash a little of his trickery on the deserving. There was blacksmith in one town they’d briefly visited who was overly harsh on his apprentice. The poor lad was quite humiliated, a regular event if the lack of reaction from the other townsfolk was any indication. Jackson had felt no guilt over that man’s fate. Neither had he lost sleep over the woman’s ruined dress in the last place they’d bought supplies. Her gloating and casual cruelty had grated on him until he’d given in and acted. 

Now he’d just finished redirecting the mischievous impulses of a group of local children more justly when he heard a snort from behind him. There was his lord watching quietly from the stables. The children scattered, though Sir Bunnymund only smiled and walked back around the building. 

The knight slowly permitted himself more familiarity with his squire, speaking his mind freely and complaining loudly. Jackson found this easy to bear. While Sir Bunnymund often sounded quite angry and of generally disagreeable disposition, it seemed to Jackson that this was merely his way. The knight never struck without reason and his actions were always carefully measured. He was brutally fair-minded. He was also an optimist, ever hopeful that people would choose to be better than they were. When they so often did not, it was no wonder that Sir Bunnymund was left frustrated and disheartened. Still, by the time they’d reach the next settlement, the knight would have rallied and the cycle would begin anew.

The seasons passed and their regard for one another grew into a warm bond. Jackson felt secure in his place, knowing his opinion and company was valued however much they disagreed. They were each content in in their situation, happy to allow the partnership to continue thus until Jackson was ready for his own knighthood. Sir Bunnymund had, in developing both friendship and respect for his squire, become an excellent teacher. Jackson quickly learned a great deal that he’d never fathomed when training within the walls of the great city.

However, when they had been together three years they reached a turning point. Sir Bunnymund had just finished off a sorcerer most foul. Indeed, he may have wounded the knight in a most dire fashion had it not been for Jackson. The sorcerer had crafted a spell, for what exact purpose was unclear, and released it when his nightmarish familiar had Sir Bunnymund quite distracted. Jackson had seen the crackling energy form and aim. He had lifted his own shield, warded heavily by his knight, moving and blocking the spell’s energy as best he could. The angry light of it spilled past the edges of the wood and metal, licking up his skin. The agony had caused him to faint. When he awoke, things had changed.

He had changed.

The warm brown of his hair and pink health of his skin had been washed away by the magic, leaving him pale and unearthly looking. His eyes retained colour, though deep icy blue now instead of brown. The cold could not touch him and Jackson could feel the wind as it moved, alive and playful. 

Sir Bunnymund had carried him to a safer camp after ensuring the sorcerer’s death by beheading. The knight’s first pointed questions had been to check his well being, and Jackson had answered them readily. Pale though he was, he had not come close to death. Then Sir Bunnymund had gently asked Jackson about how he was feeling. He had noticed that the changes went beyond appearances. The knight was no stranger to light and dark magic. Jackson told him everything, every detail, every discovery. There was nothing he could not imagine sharing with his knight.

So, when Sir Bunnymund offered to release Jackson from their contract, so that he could return home and better discover what this new path had in store for him, he reacted most violently. First with anger and then with tears. Did his knight no longer want him now that he was… whatever he had become? Hadn’t he proven himself time and again? Weren’t they the closest of companions now?

Sir Bunnymund had denied the accusations regarding Jackson’s change. It made no difference to him. He only wanted the best for his squire and sought to ensure his happiness. Open and warm, the way his knight looked upon him then undid his composure. Jackson threw himself into the arms of his dearest friend and companion. His icy tears fell quietly when he whispered to his knight that he could not imagine being happy anywhere else. 

They curled together by the fire that night and continued to do so in the nights that followed, leaving behind knight and squire to become Aster and Jack. Fall passed into winter, though the cold bothered them not, when Jack could bend the frigid winds around them and evade the worst of the season. As his power seemed to grow, Aster insisted on taking him to meet the friends of his past. Sorcerers and warriors in their own right, masters of their domains, one even a queen, Jackson held no small amount of trepidation at their judgment of him. 

When they arrived at the great castle, they stood before them - two men, one large one small, and a woman like none he had ever seen. Jack could feel the power that radiated from them. Aster gripped his hand and pulled him forward to stand by his side. Jack expected his introduction to be formal: Jackson of Burgess, faithful squire to Sir Bunnymund of Aus. Instead Aster raised their clasped hands, eliciting surprised and delighted smiles from his friends.

“This is Jack. He is mine as I am his.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday 15 - FANTASY  
> monsters that go bump in the night, fairytale castles, princes and dragons…
> 
> http://jackrabbitweek.tumblr.com/post/87595999928/jackrabbit-week-june-13-22-edit-x-welcome-to


	4. JackRabbit Haiku

Light falls on soft fur  
Striking dark symbolic edge  
Warmth and strength defined

Cool shadows flicker  
Snow and ice refract moonlight  
Elegant frost creeps

Twitching ears catch snap  
Wind stills silence falling fast  
Leap grasp and crash

Warm cold darkness lit  
Pelt riled clothing disheveled  
Winter Spring collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Began by writing something going in an angsty direction and just wasn't feeling it, so you get some Haiku instead.
> 
> Monday 16 - LIGHT/DARK  
> they bring out the best and worst in each other, good and evil, fluff and angst…
> 
> http://jackrabbitweek.tumblr.com/post/87595999928/jackrabbit-week-june-13-22-edit-x-welcome-to


	5. Rain

Aster glistens with wet, little droplets quivering on the bristles of his fur. Jack had been dopey from the increasing heat and he’d almost needed carrying to the surface. It was a good idea though. The June rain is cool enough that the warmth isn’t uncomfortable and the grass is soft with new growth, heady with the scent of life.

There’s a strange sort of storm slowly passing high overhead. It’s dark and angry, thundering along its path, splitting the sky with an occasional fork of lightning and sending down rain in a light drizzle. The clouds move in layers, each shifting as though trying and outstrip the others. Shades of grey are painted across the sky. The horizon is clear though, lit up by the late afternoon sun in pinks and burnished orange. A breeze sways the grass and ruffles Jack’s hair, adding to the surreal sense of calm. 

Aster’s hand finds its way into his and he shifts onto his side. There’s a tiny voice piping up in his head that suggests things like sleet or surprise snowballs, but it quickly fades. They don’t have many moments of peace like this, not with a relationship that seems to thrive on conflict and challenge. It’s not a bad thing, but sometimes…

The odd light of the storm mutes most of the colours beneath it, yet somehow it only serves to increase the intense green of Aster’s eyes. His thumb draws circles on the inside of Jack’s wrist and Aster chuckles when it makes Jack shiver. His nose twitches slightly as his eyes focus over Jack’s shoulder. Nudging gently, Jack allows himself to be pushed back. There, in that place between the storm and the horizon, he can see what Aster noticed. A rainbow.

Aster is on his side now, stretched out against Jack. There’s no time here, no urgency or duty to distract them, so they stay and watch the storm bluster off into the night sky, taking the rain with it. Pink and orange fade to indigo and black. The clouds clear entirely, leaving only the stars and, eventually, the glittering streams of golden sand that herald the Guardian of Dreams. By the time he arrives, his fellow Guardians are entwined in the grass, fast asleep. Sandy takes the rare opportunity to gift them with his talent, dusting them lightly with his sand. 

The rain follows them in their dreams, soaking them through, washing away the weight of everyday and leaving them only in the now, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday 17 - RAIN  
> cleansing spring shower or destructive floods, tears of happiness or sadness…
> 
> http://jackrabbitweek.tumblr.com/post/87595999928/jackrabbit-week-june-13-22-edit-x-welcome-to


	6. Father's Day

Sophie stared down at the pieces of coloured paper with a frown. Normally she loved art. Painting, drawings, clay and more, Sophie was always first to finish cleaning up so she could begin art time. 

“Hey, Sophie. Do you need some help getting started?” Ms. Walker squatted down next to her at the craft table. Her classmates were busy all around. They each had a set of letters and shapes, mounds of stickers piled in the centre for the kindergarteners to share. The same brown card stock was set out for everyone.

“No.” She whispered. 

“You know,” her teacher began softly, “Father’s Day is about more than having a Dad.”

Sophie understood that. When they’d begun, Ms. Walker had explained that they could make their card for anyone, not just Dads. Grandpas, Uncles, Stepdads or even Moms were all fine too. Sophie had already made her Mom a card though. The glittery Mother’s Day creation still held the place of pride on their fridge at home.

Their family was small, being just the three of them. They never really talked about Father’s Day. Jamie always ignored her when she asked about Dad. She knew that her father had left and was never coming back, but Sophie didn’t remember him at all. Emilio was making a card for his Abuelo and Gretchen had two Dads, one who lived with her and one who didn’t. It wasn’t fair.

Stupid Father’s Day.

Sophie looked up when her teacher continued speaking.

“It’s about someone in your life who supports you, who cares for you and helps you be the best Sophie you can be. Whoever that is, family or not, make the card for him. Okay?”

“Okay.” The best Sophie she could be. She’d heard that before. Her teacher’s words lit a spark of hope inside her. She smiled and grabbed a glue stick. Sophie knew exactly who to make the card for now. 

*****

Jack found Bunny in the Warren, sitting pensively under a tree. He’d been spending as much time as possible there. It was always springtime, which he didn’t mind so much, and he could come and go as he pleased now that Bunny had granted him full access. 

“Hey.” He threw himself down next to Aster. Bunny had crashed hard post-Easter and then, a week of sleep later, had been reenergized and uncharacteristically amorous. Not that Jack was complaining, but as much fun as it had been he had needed to cool down afterwards. Two weeks wintering in New Zealand had done nicely.

“Hey yourself, Snowflake.” The small smile was a bit sad. Looking his lover over, nothing seemed amiss, but then Jack noticed something in his hand. It was a Father’s Day card.

“Huh,” he said, peering at it. “Is there something you need to tell me?” He grinned, quick and confused.

“It’s from Sophie.” Aster answered. “Must be scraping the bottom of the barrel to be handing it over to me.”

Jack snatched the card from him and opened it up. It was lovingly decorated. The letters weren’t quite in order and there was an abundance of puffy flower stickers. Still, it was clearly made with Aster in mind. Sophie’s roughly drawn bunnies graced both the cover and interior and the tiny glitter glue blobs in the corners must have been intended as Easter Eggs.

“Awww, this is awesome. You know she loves you.” He nudged Aster, who ducked his head almost shyly. Jack knew he adored the girl. The Burgess kids were all firm believers in the Guardians. Some latched on to one more than others. Jack was there for all of them and would always be special, particularly to Jamie, but Cupcake for instance had quickly bonded with Sandy. Only Sophie was different. She had never followed Jack and the other kids on their wild quests for fun. For her, Bunny had always come first.

“Ya know, there was a time once when I thought I would be a father.” Jack froze. This was unknown territory. Aster had explained about the Pooka and his long, long history, but, well…Why talk about children when it was impossibility for both of them? “Pooka have rather large families. Always expected to get there too eventually.”

“Aster-“

“Oh, don’t fret, Jackie.” He shook himself, as if shaking away the melancholy air that had settled on them. Aster carefully took the card from Jack’s hands. “Just got me thinking is all.”

At a loss for what to do in the seriousness of the moment, Jack fell back on what he did best.

“So,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “maybe less thinking and more doing?” 

Bunny snorted and shoved him over. Jack stretched himself out, letting his hoodie ride up and glancing at his lover from beneath his lashes. 

“Didn’t you miss me?” Aster rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as if to refuse, but as soon as Jack closed his eyes he found himself pinned to the ground. “Yeah, you definitely did.”

“Mmmm.” They don’t speak any more after that for a while, at least, not anything intelligible.

Sophie’s card is enshrined on Bunny’s mantle in all its sparkly glory. In the years to come, Jack would watch as the cards piled up. Eventually it changed, handmade cards replaced with cookies or books, but Sophie never forgot. 

*****

The high school Father Daughter dance was an exercise in frustration. Jamie escorted her, but her friends kept asking about her Dad, even after she informed them that he was abroad. So Sophie finally told them that he lived in Australia and couldn’t afford to visit. It snowballed from there. He was tall and strong, a runner with greying hair. He was an artist and an avid gardener. He was an excellent listener, even from thousands of miles away. He was named Aster, yes like the flower, and had a boyfriend who came up with the best pranks. One of Bunny’s sketches was taped inside her own sketchbook. When her art teacher caught sight of it, he commented on the beauty of the piece and how artistic talent must run in her family. She tried not to be too giddy about the comparison. 

Sophie had asked Aster, and by extension Jack, to come to her graduation. The ceremony was in the gymnasium. She spies them both settled up on the old balcony, normally cordoned off from use. Aster was the first one she told when she got her acceptance letter from PennDesign, to which she never would have applied without his encouragement.

“I thought your Dad was coming.” Emma whispered to her between smiles for photos.

“He did.” Sophie beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sophie doesn't get enough love and Aster adores her.
> 
> Wednesday 18 - FAMILY  
> the discovery of memories, found-family, acceptance…


	7. Spirit of Spring

It was a gradual decline. Honestly, I hadn’t really been paying attention. Mostly when I helped with Easter, it was in the Warren. Bunny would head out with the troops and I would stay behind with the next wave and, eventually, begin the post-holiday clean up while he was out.

What I did notice was the sleeping. Spirits don’t sleep that much, not unless we want to or we’ve completely exhausted ourselves. Aster had been taking naps. I’d find him dozing in the middle of the day, hunched over an easel or lying in the garden. It started happening more and more. Then I’d come back from a week of winter fun to find he’d slept through the whole time.

Even Sophie had noticed. She was a grandmother now, but she still expected Bunny regularly. We had dropped by one fall afternoon for tea and Aster had curled up on her couch and gone to sleep.

“Oh,” she sighed. “I was afraid of something like this.”

Sophie explained to me that Easter, as a holiday, was dying out. Most of the traditional events had been held by churches, and with numbers dwindling and more important uses for their budgets, Easter festivities had begun disappearing. Schools promoted more secular events and Easter had never decoupled from its religious roots quite the way that Christmas had. Spring celebrations of life and renewal had shifted and focused more strongly on environmental themes. Earth Day was popular, but so were festivals with more pagan or mythological themes, partly owing to a recently popular cartoon series intended to provide “green education”.

The Easter Bunny was fading. Not dramatically, like that Easter so many years ago when believers had plummeted and he’d shrunk. This was gradual, almost natural. Bunny was just going to fade away. 

I took it pretty badly. Sophie shouted after me when I flung myself out the window and onto the wind. I headed straight for the Workshop. A little hysterical, I knocked over several elves when I arrived and barreled straight into Phil. North couldn’t understand anything I was saying, so he grabbed me in a bear hug and held on until I tamped the panic down.

“Bunny is dying.” In retrospect, it had been a blunt way to start. North had argued and shouted and promptly called for a snow globe to transport us to the Warren. 

Bunny met us there and had angrily rushed North away. Once we were alone, he guided me to our nest and we settled there nervously. He confessed that he’d known what was coming. He’d planned on telling me, but not just yet, because he hadn’t wanted me to worry through the last of our time together. 

I smacked him across his muzzle for that and tried not to cry into his ruff. It wasn’t fair. He’d lived for thousands of years, longer, and now when we hadn’t even had a century together? There had to be another way. 

“Isn’t there something we can do?” I put the question to him hopefully. 

“All things have to end sometime, Jackie.” 

We spent the next few weeks almost constantly in one another’s company. Sometimes he was there, ready to race or argue or kiss. Other times he slept with his head in my lap or his arms wrapped around me. 

And then one day Aster went to sleep on the grass and didn’t wake up.

The other Guardians tried to help. They invited me to their homes, offering comfort, expecting tears and mourning. They sent me food and other presents meant to cheer me up. I didn’t want any of it. Aside from a brief burst of grief and anger that I vented in Antarctica onto some undeserving penguins, I was firm. I would stay with Aster.

The Warren remained as it ever was, though the Sentinel Eggs were like statues and the egg flowers didn’t bloom. The tunnels still worked for me and the gardens grew. I stayed and so did Aster, curled in the same place, sleeping. 

It was spring again when I’d left to visit the surface for a couple weeks. Spreading some of my usual frosty fun felt good. It was the last chance I’d have for a while. I even visited Sophie and we had a good cry together. Sandy waved hello a few times from his evening rounds and Baby Tooth twittered excitedly one night when we’d nearly collided. I went home a little lighter and looked forward to seeing Bunny again.

But when I arrived, things had changed. I’d hoped to run my fingers through his fur and tell him about my trip, but there was no fur to be seen. Aster’s body was either gone or entirely covered by the greenery that had flourished where he had been.

I pulled and hacked at the vines. I even tried freezing them, but nothing got through. Aster disappearing completely was my worst fear, but this was terrifying. Was he still there? What was happening to him? Had I done something wrong?

I sat there for days, trying over and over again to pierce that damned green wall. Eventually, I had to admit that I needed help. Tooth and North were useless, with Tooth mostly fussing over me. Sandy stared at the green prison for a long time before patting me on the gently and flashing pictograms overhead He might have an idea and could I wait until he was sure?

Hell yes, I’d wait.

Sandy returned three weeks later with a woman I’d never met. She was serene and had an aura of power. A friend of Sandy’s who rarely interacted with others, she introduced herself as Mother Nature.

Apparently, I needed to wait some more. 

No shit. What did she think I’d been doing? I wasn’t going to leave Aster.

“In order to have beginnings, we need to have endings.” She explained. “That’s how life works - the turning of the seasons, the cycle of rain. Birth and death. New things growing from the remains of the old-“

“If you’re going to talk about compost, you can stop right there.” I angrily interrupted her monologue. “For fuck’s sake, can’t you give me a straight answer?”

“Aster is being… repurposed.”

What?

“He’s been entwined with the life energy of this planet since it formed. I don’t fully understand it, but he’s steeped in that power and history, connected to the mythology of humanity in several places. “ Sandy nodded here in agreement with her. “The magical bond that fused him with the belief in the Easter Bunny is actually quite recent. Now that bond is broken, but Aster is not.”

“What does that mean? Will he go back to being a Pooka again, like before?” I’d heard the stories from the others about what E. Aster Bunnymund has been like when they’d first met. Green coat and egg tipped staff, logical and very particularly not human, thank you very much.

“No. He’s changed too much for that. I think he might end up even less a Pooka than he was as the Easter Bunny.” She gazed at me sympathetically as her dark hair floated on a gentle breeze that she seemed to have brought with her. “We can only wait and see.” 

And that’s all I got. Sandy shrugged and smiled at me hopefully. It was better than nothing. It meant that Aster wasn’t truly gone. 

So I settled in to wait.

It took a full year, until next spring, for anything to change. As winter gave way to spring in the northern hemisphere, the greenery shifted and moved. Only a shudder or two at first, but by then I’m entrenched in the grass, watching. I expected the leaves to part and give me a glimpse of fur. Then I realized that Aster wasn’t underneath the foliage, he _was_ the foliage. The leafy mass unfurled and stretched. The body was roughly human shaped, still about the same height, and all shades of green with eyes flecked with gold. 

“Aster?” His name slipped out in a whisper.

“Jack.” The answering voice was earthy and alive, without even a trace of his old Australian accent. 

“Holy shit.” He laughed at me then, full and rich. It was contagious and I laughed until I cried. I can’t remember who moved first, but we ended up in each other’s arms, holding on tightly. It was different than his fur. The leaves were another kind of welcoming softness. “What am I going to call you now?”

“I suppose staying with Aster isn’t an option?” He grumbled.

“Not unless you plan on sprouting flowers.” I grinned up at his green face. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t, not entirely, but it was enough for now. Eventually Aster would have to face the fact that the last of the Pooka was a Pooka no more, but in that moment, Aster’s centre shone through, having endured the change intact. “It’ll all be fine, Jack.”

“Oh crap.” I looked down at his legs and saw the leaves wilting slightly where they touched the skin of my legs. “Am I hurting you?”

“Hmmm.” Aster hummed and closed his eyes. The foliage shuddered and morphed. Flat leaves faded into soft sprawling lichen, Reindeer moss. “Better?”

Awesome.

We stayed like that for a long time, through the summer and fall. I told him of the time that he’d missed and Mother Nature’s explanation for his new look. Aster accepted it with resignation, knowing there was no going back, and instead began exploring his changed nature. He quickly discovered that if didn’t focus his will, his greenery shifted to fit the season. The eternal spring of the Warren began to move as well, becoming as seasonal as Aster himself. Me? I couldn’t wait for our first snowfall. 

Unfortunately, though we were close and still in love, we weren’t exactly compatible anymore. As nice as it was to rest together in our nest again, that was all we did. 

When we caved and visited The Workshop for Christmas, we discovered another possibility. We’d arrived on Christmas Eve and, after having helped get North on his way, slept through most of Christmas Day as was the tradition here. Rested was probably the better term, as neither of us really required sleep. I dozed a little out of boredom though and when I woke the spirit lying next to me was not the same as the one I had last seen. Lying on his back, Aster had one arm thrown up above his head. His foliage was gone. Instead he displayed an expanse of brown skin, stretched over muscle and dappled with patterns from the greenery he had worn. If I looked closely, I could faintly see the outlines of his old markings as well, deeper brown shades just visible in the low light. He wasn’t a plant and he wasn’t a Pooka. He was gorgeous. I pressed my skin against his and he cracked an eye open to look at me.

“Go back to bed, Frostbite. The yeti’ll be mad if we wake’em this early.”

“Who said anything about getting up?” I slid my palm down his chest and watched his eyes snap open in surprise. “I think we should stay here for a while. Let them sleep in, like good guests, right?”

Aster’s fingers grasped my hair and pulled me down for a kiss. It was a long time before we came up for air.

“Didn’t know I could do this.” He breathed as I kissed my way down his neck. “You like it, then?”

“I love you, Jolly Green.” I paused to smirk at his scowl. So hot. “But this, I can definitely appreciate.”

And just so it was clear, I took care to show him just what I meant by _appreciate_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easter really isn't Christmas is it?
> 
> Thursday 19 - LASTS/ENDINGS  
> last days, last kisses and salty tears, the end of things…
> 
> *****
> 
> This will be the last prompt fill I post here. I have two AU ideas in the works, which are crossovers really, so I'll post them separately.


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